SFR Picks

Pop it Off

Lace up your Chucks—Joyce Manor and Wavves are here Surely there are folks wandering around for whom the statement "Joyce Manor is coming and they'll have Wavves with them!" is a big effing deal. California's Joyce Manor has, of course, never been through town before this week, and San Diego three-piece Wavves' previous show at Skylight a few short months back (Music: "Wavvelengths," May 24) was a pretty spectacular reminder that they're one of the most solid and just plain fun rock bands operating today. For their part, Joyce Manor's pop-punk/emo-esque sound continues a sort of light trend in and around Santa Fe—and the country, really—that is surely some part nostalgia and some other part good music is good music. After all, a world in which Jawbreaker gets back together (for a show or two, anyway), Rozwell Kid draws troves and even Weezer itself musically recalls a time when they weren't so goddamn precious is a good one.

And bands like these are important, not just to those who cut their teeth on Asian Man Records or Fueled by Ramen. Think bedroom boredom, woe-is-me relationship-busters and the almost-joking reassurance that suburban doldrums can propel the tattooed, black-shirt, Chuck Taylor-wearing set into introverted lyricism and two-minute powerhouse songs that play like angsty teenaged journal entries if the conditions are just right. Joyce Manor's most recent effort Cody is barely a year old at this point; Wavves' You're Welcome is even younger, but both know from whence they came. It isn't that these are derivative bands; more like improvements on the things you know and love. For listeners who still appreciate guitar-driven rock, we can't be too careful in who and how we nurture and support. We're on the cusp of a breakthrough here; where Taylor Swift and the "Despacito" continue to hypnotize a certain sect and the rest of us hotheads try, possibly in vain, to recapture the sweat-soaked, packed-floor shows of our musically formative years. Joyce Manor and Waaves seem as good a soundtrack to that mission as we could hope for. (Alex De Vore)

You’re Gonna Carry That Weight

The local music scene lurched over the weekend when drummer Micah Chappell (The Hollis Wake, Led Zeppelin cover band Moby Dick and many others) died shortly after he was diagnosed with an undisclosed illness. "He was my brother," longtime collaborator Mikey Baker says. "He was one of a kind." It's a time for sadness but, seeing as it's surely what Chappell would have wanted, there will be music. Tonight at The Underground, local acts The Imperial Rooster and The Dildonts join an acoustic version of Moby Dick and DJ Telefunkin for a memorial show and silent auction. All proceeds go to Chappell's family. Regardless, it's a major loss to local music and he will not be forgotten. (ADV)

The Rock Keeps Coming

Holy hell, Brooklyn's Landlady is smooth and sexy as hell. Think soulful throwback bass lines that wouldn't be out of place in the world of Motown and vintage guitar riff psychedelics under front man Adam Schatz' gravelly Randy Newman-like timbre and piano foundations. For a better idea, see their NPR Tiny Desk Concert from Oct. 6 of this year—you're welcome. Fellow NYC musician Ian Chang comes along with a bonkers percussion set, and Albuquerque's three-bass/two-drummer post-punk explosion Chicharra plays as well, fresh off the release of their very first full-length, Let's Paint This Town in Craters. Wait a minute—is it just us, or is there almost too much good music this week? We're scared, Santa Fe, but it feels good. (ADV)

Get Smoked

Local institution Joe West founded his Theater of Death series a mere three years ago, and 2017 (the weirdest year we can recall in so many ways) brings its fourth production, The Marijuana Morality Plays, to bear. West's deep appreciation for the French Grand Guignol theater tradition runs deep, as do his musical and theatrical connections, so just what happens when a venerable creator and lover of characters joins Madrid's finest for a humorous (and probably creepy) look at those who would be stoned? You're gonna want to find out, that's for damn sure. Just don't bring your kids—this one's for those 21 and over. (ADV)